Sophia's Gift
by The Song Of The Cricket
Summary: It's Christmas time in the prison, and everybody's happily getting into the season. There's just one problem; Carl doesn't know what to get Sophia for Christmas! Can he solve this dilemma before time runs out? A companion piece to Sophia's Return.


_December 23__rd_

Carl pulled on his shoes, getting ready for another Christmas supply run. They had cleared out the malls and let people head out on runs to find gifts. Carl had already gotten presents for almost everybody, but he still hadn't gotten everybody. Namely, Sophia.

They had been dating for nine months now, but he wasn't able to come up with anything to get her. He considered getting her another journal, but it didn't seem right. It was like a cop-out present. He wanted to find the perfect gift, but he was almost out of time. Christmas was in two days, and today was the last day for supply runs. They weren't going to do any tomorrow.

Once he was ready, he grabbed his knife from the nightstand by the bed. He looked over at Sophia, who was sleeping peacefully on the bottom bunk. Carl was grateful she was such a heavy sleeper. He usually got up fairly early in the morning, and the mattress creaked loudly under him when he would get out of bed. He gently brushed her bangs out of the way and kissed her forehead, before slipping out of the cell to meet up with the supply group he was going with.

* * *

Carl and Daryl looked through the rows of shops, looking for a good store to get gifts at. Incidentally, they were both looking for gifts for Sophia. The mall was empty, of course, since it had been cleared out ages ago, but it was still good to travel in pairs. Besides, they could help each other find gifts.

"Follow me," Daryl said, pulling Carl into an X-rated store. He groaned, but went with him anyway.

"What am I going to get for Sophia here?" he asked, "I'm pretty sure Sophia doesn't need the bro-code or a mug that looks like boobs."

"You could get here these," Daryl suggested with a wink as he held up a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, earning himself a gag from Carl.

"You're sick!" Carl protested, "How could you even… just… just no!"

"Oh, that's right," Daryl teased, "I forgot that you're wimp! You still haven't even kissed her yet, have you?"

Carl glared. "No."

Daryl sighed. "Come on," he groaned, "You've been dating her for nine months now! Grow a pair! She's your girlfriend, god dammit!"

"I'm waiting!" Carl insisted, "I want it to be special! I've never kissed a girl before, and I don't know how. I don't want to ruin it."

"It's not hard," Daryl said, "You just kiss her. The end."

Carl folded his arms. "Let's just keep looking," he mumbled.

The search continued for a while, the pair wandering down the long hall, looking at the various store signs, until something in a window caught Carl's eye. There was a large display of teddy bears in the window, with large eyes and plush bodies. As he looked at the store, he felt something, as if it were pulling him in. Making a snap decision, he grabbed Daryl's sleeve and entered the store, dragging him in too.

Little girly things lined the shelves and littered the shelves. Overall, the store reminded him of things somebody would get their girlfriend on Valentine's Day. It was like a gift-giving gold mine. Carl began to roam amongst the shelves, until a something caught his eye. It was a small white teddy bear, with large brown eyes and a silky red ribbon tied around its neck in a bow.

"I've found my gift!" he cried out, feeling excited. He snatched the bear up off the shelf and stared at, an idea forming in his head. Daryl craned his neck to see what the younger boy was holding, and burst into peals of laughter when he finally saw it.

"It's just a teddy bear!" he gasped about between chuckles, "You're getting your girlfriend of nine months… _a teddy bear!"_

Carl rolled his eyes. True, it didn't seem like much, but it was. Carl had a plan.

Carl always had a plan.

* * *

_December 24__th_

"Hershel?" Carl asked, poking his head in the doorway of Cell Block A, where Hershel and Doctor S had set up their temporary doctor's office. At the mention of his name, Hershel looked up, and smiled fondly at Carl.

"Hello Carl," he greeted, "How are you?"

"Good," Carl answered, grinning. He knew if anybody had what he was looking for, it would be Hershel.

"What can I help ya with?" the older man asked, grabbing his crutches and hopping over to him. Carl was glad Hershel would be able to get rid of those crutches soon. Maggie had confided in him that she had found a prosthetic leg on a more recent supply run, and had decided to hold off on giving it to him until Christmas.

"I know you and Beth went out looking for berries the other day," Carl said, "And I was wondering if you had found some mistletoe."

Hershel gave him a knowing smile as he realized what the teenager was up to. After all, Hershel was the one who had told him not to kiss her if it didn't feel like the right time yet. Nodding, he hobbled across the room to a small chest, and pulled one of the drawers open. With a gentle hand, he reached in a grabbed a small delicate sprig.

"Good luck," he said, making his way back over to Carl and dropping the mistletoe into his palm.

* * *

Carl sat on the floor of Patrick's cell, gently trying to situate the piece of mistletoe into the ribbon in a position it would stay in.

"Dude, you're seriously going to get her that?" Patrick asked skeptically, looking up from the book he was reading.

"Yeah, why?" Carl asked, sudden feeling defensive and nervous. Was his gift bad?

"It's pretty cheesy," the older boy said, "You know, boy kisses girl, merry Christmas and all that boring, over-used crap."

"Yeah," Carl said stiffly, "but I'm going to kiss her."

"What's so special about a kiss?" Patrick asked, "I mean, she is you're girlfriend. Don't you kiss her all the time?"

A silence grew between them as realization began to dawn on Patrick. "Oh my god," he whispered, "You haven't kissed her yet. Seriously man, what's wrong with you?"

"It just didn't feel right," Carl grumbled, starting to feel annoyed with his friend. If they weren't in the apocalypse, he didn't know if Patrick would have been the kind of person h would be friends with. Patrick was nerdy and unsocial, but he was also very critical. Still, there was nobody else his age in the prison, and life these days pushed all sorts of people together.

With a sigh, Patrick shook his head and turned away. "Whatever."

* * *

_December 25__th_

"Good morning!"

Carl blinked open his eyes to see Sophia staring at him, standing on her toes in order to bring her whole face over the edge of the bed to see him.

"Get up," she insisted, poking him in the side, "You're one of the last people that isn't ready yet, and everybody's really excited to start opening gifts!"

With that, she grabbed a bag filled with numerous wrapped boxes and left the cell, leaving Carl to get ready.

Rubbing his eyes, Carl hopped down from his bunk and pulled on a pair of pants. He pulled out his gifts, which had been hastily stuffed into a large brown sac and shoved to the furthest corner of the room, between the toilet and the wall. He had been in such a rush, he hadn't even thought to wrap them, but it was too late now. As an afterthought, he pulled out Sophia's bear, which was hidden under his pillow. He knew she could see his bag, and he didn't want her getting any ideas about opening her gift early.

When he hurried out of his cell, everybody was already waiting patiently. Once he arrived, everybody began busily moving about, giving gifts and spreading the holiday spirit. Beth walked up, smiling slightly.

"Merry Christmas Carl," she greeted, handing him a slim, wrapped rectangle. When he tore of the wrapping paper, he discovered it was a framed picture of himself holding Judith.

"Thank you, Beth," he said, giving her the plain, unwrapped journal, "Merry Christmas."

They smiled at each other, before setting off to give gifts to other people. Carl made his way over to the wall, where Hershel was sitting, his prosthetic leg still in the box at his side. When he noticed Carl standing above him, he grinned. Pulling out a book from his bag, he brushed the cover off and gave it to Hershel, hoping it wasn't something he'd already read. Hershel already had, of course, but wasn't going to tell that to Carl. Instead, he pressed something cool and metallic into his palm. When he moved his hand away, Carl saw Hershel had given him a silver watch.

"Good luck, son," he said, "And merry Christmas."

"You too, Hershel," Carl said, before walking away. The gift-giving process continued for a while, until Carl and Sophia found themselves standing face to face with each other, holding bags that were now filled with gifts from others.

"Is it just me, or does Daryl have a sick sense of humor?" she asked, holding up the fuzzy handcuffs that Daryl had tried to convince him to get for her.

"He's a _very _sick person," Carl stated, fishing out the whip he had gotten from the crossbow wielding redneck. "He's a very sick person who is trying to send us a very sick message." The pair broke out into laughter, before slowly regaining their seriousness.

"Merry Christmas," she said, handing him a small box. He opened it and pulled out a plain black wallet. When he opened it, an additional strand of leather tumbled out, covered in small plastic covers. Each one held a picture. Some were of them, others were of Judith or his father, and they had all been trimmed to size so that they would fit into the plastic.

"I had little help from Mika," she admitted. Carl nodded. Mika had recently gotten her hands on an old Polaroid that still managed to work, and was fascinated by the fact that the pictures were printed immediately. Since then, she had become the paparazzi of the prison, taking picture after picture. Carl himself had gotten her several rolls of additional film for Christmas.

"It's beautiful," he murmured, closing it up and sliding it into his back pocket. They stood there, staring at each other, before Carl remembered what he was planning.

"Follow me," he said, taking her hand and leading her back to their cell. He picked up the bear and turned around so she could see it.

Before she could say anything, Carl moved his hand so he was holding the bear over their heads, and kissed her.

After a few moments, they broke apart, grinning like a couple of idiots. "Merry Christmas Sophia." he whispered.

* * *

Hey guys! It's me! I feel like some things may need to be cleared up here, so he goes and what not.

1. First off, this is a companion piece for Sophia's Return and Sophia's Suffering. It's set right in between them.

2. They _do, _in fact, share a cell. The night Carol died, Carl moved into her cell so she wouldn't be alone. They sleep in different beds, though.

3. Yeah, this was their first kiss, despite the fact they have been dating since late April.

So, everybody, I hope you all have a happy holidays!


End file.
